Innocent In Water
by amazinglilli
Summary: This is the untold story of Finnick Odair. Growing up as son of the mayor he knew that he would eventually be picked for the Hunger Games and expected to win, but little did he know that winning was just the beginning of it all. Throughout this story you will see the games and the real effects they have on people.
1. Chapter 1

"Get up! Now!" my father yells, yanking open my bedroom door. He is never in a good mood. "You're _not _going to be late for another day of training!" He slams the door so hard a couple of shells fall off my dresser.

I pry myself out of bed, my body still aching from yesterday, before picking up the shells and grabbing my uniform out of the top drawer. As I slip the tight suit over my body I have to grit my teeth to ignore the pain of the bruises that cover me. I tiredly stumble over to the mirror hanging above my bathroom sink and comb the hair out of my face.

The wall shakes a couple of times and I hear muffled screams, but I try to take a few deep breaths before going into the hallway where my mother and father are fighting, again. My mother slams into the wall and collapses into a heap on the floor. Her knotted dirty blonde hair lays on the left side of her face, hiding her scars. Her hand trembles with fear as she pushes it out of her face to reveal a black eye and swollen lip that lay on her purple jaw. Her pale blue eyes glisten with tears that slowly continue down her red-hot cheeks. My father steps closer to her, but before he can swing again I rush across the room and stop him.

"Hey! Back off! Don't touch her!" I yell, trying to separate them.

"Why don't you just stay out of this?" he shouts, pushing me out of the way. I hit the ground hard, all of my limbs racing to reach the floor first. Blood drips from my nose and forms little puddles on the white tile as I stand up.

"Why don't you lay off—" I yell, pushing back at him, as my mother shakily stands up.

"Please, Finnick. Just go," she pleads with tears streaming down her face. "I'll be fine. Just go."

I don't want to leave her with him, but I have no choice. We both know that if I stay it will only get worse. It always does. I brush the sand off my uniform and walk out, slamming the door behind me. I wipe the blood off my face as I walk down the walkway and onto the sidewalk. Girls stare at me and giggle to themselves the entire way. When I finally get to Kai's house his mother answers the door.

She is a petite woman, slim waist and small build. Her face is dotted with so many freckles that it is useless to try to count them all. The peak of her nose looks dusted with red from a sunburn, but the rest of her is sun-kissed tan. Her stick strait dark brown hair is braided loosely to the side and pecked with a daisy on her left ear. Her eyes are a subtle sage green color, like the Hydrangeas that grow in the grassy patches of the district. She wears a simple long light grey cotton dress and a white braided rope tied around her small waist. Her feet peek out from under her dress in light brown sandals.

"Oh, Finnick," she says, sympathetically. "Come on inside and let me clean you up." She opens the door and guides me in. "Kai, go get my rubbing alcohol," she yells.

"Okay, just one second," he calls back, grabbing a stool from the other room and sitting it next to the kitchen counter. I sit down and his mother rushes to the sink with a small cloth to wet it.

"He got you bad today?" Kai asks.

"No, I just didn't land right this time, I guess," I say, looking down at my exposed knee. It looks pretty beat up.

His mother comes up to my side and pats the wet cloth against my face. "Does it hurt?" she asks, concerned. She gently brushes my cheek with her hand. "Now this might sting a little," she says, taking a cotton ball and cleaning out the cut with rubbing alcohol. I wince, at first, but eventually my face relaxes.

After that we head out the door and walk to the rest of the way to the Academy. It is not that far away, but by the time we get there it iss packed. District 4 has a reputation for succeeding in the games, so they always open up the Academy for everyone eligible for the drawings the day before the reaping. No one has to go to classes, it is just organized free fight. I go up to the weapons table and grab a silver trident, my specialty.

"Hey, check out that girl," Kai says, nudging me and nodding towards the girl in the corner. She is tall and slim with flowing long dark brown hair and a good arm with her machete. She wears a large tan sweater that seems to be slipping off her shoulder with navy blue cotton high thigh shorts and a simple sea shell hanging right around her neck on a worn out leather chain. Definitely not the uniform. "She's almost Academy material," he adds.

"Why isn't she here?" I ask. Everyone who has a chance at winning is usually evaluated and placed in the Academy at eleven. _Why is she so different?_

Coral steps behind me, her stick straight sleek blonde hair resting on her shoulders. "Her mother can't pay for it," she says, parting her bright red glossy lips to show a slight smirk towards how pathetic she thinks this is. "She's too hopped up on alcohol to pay any attention to her." She crosses her arms and narrows her cool blue eyes at the girl.

"Yeah, I think her father's the one who they found dead with the salmon a couple of years ago. I guess you never really get over it," Kai says, looking over at the girl. She takes her machete and slices the dummy's arm off and then swings it back around to its head in one swift move.

"Maybe that's what makes her so good."

* * *

Training gets out early so we can go home and get ready for tomorrow. Kai, Coral, and I all walk together on my way home, trying to guess who is going to get picked tomorrow.

"I've got 20 on Romeo," Kai says. "And if he doesn't get picked he's definitely going to volunteer."

"I don't know. What about Faron?" I ask him. They are both pretty good, but Romeo is not showy about his skills like Faron. He has some of the best scores the Academy has ever seen, but he does not seem like the type to volunteer. To do that takes more than just guts. To bargain your life for the sheer joy of torturing others on live TV is not for everyone.

"You guys are such idiots," Coral says, pushing the side bangs of her sleek blonde hair out of her face. Kai and I both look at her confused. "What, you two never thought of Finnick?" she asks.

Kai and I just stand there looking at each other.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought of it," she says, in total shock.

I stop in my tracks the second she says that. _What if I do get picked this year? _I have not really thought about it much because usually the older ones usually get picked, but it could happen.

"Well your father is the Mayor. You know that gives you greater chances of getting picked. I mean, the Capitol does love the _drama_," she smiles, shaking her hands around.

My face stiffens as I start to explore the seriousness of what she just said. _I could get picked. I could give up my life and everyone I know to actually kill complete strangers for the Capitols amusement. _The idea itself is unnerving.

Coral comes around to my front and place both of her delicate hands on either cheek. "I'm sorry, Finnick. I didn't mean it like that," she says. "I mean, how amazing would it be to get picked, to be the youngest victor? Just think about it." She takes my hand in hers and looks at Kai. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah," I say, looking down at her. She wraps her arms around my neck and pushes her body close to mine, her smooth hair hitting my face. She gives me a lingering kiss on the cheek before leaving.

When I finally get to my house I hesitate before slowly opening the door. I come in and see my mother sitting at the kitchen table, with a cup of tea in her hands, staring into thin air. Her hair is a frizzy mess and her under-eye circles are so dark they blend into the bruises from this morning. I can see a bloody gash on her leg peeking out from under her long flowing black silk skirt.

"Oh, H-hello, Finnick. H-how was training?" she asks, struggling to get the words out. She mats down her hair with one of her hands and offers me a seat next to her.

"No. That's okay," I say. "Hey, where is..." I point to my father's office in the front corner of the hallway.

"He went into town for business. He should be back home soon," she says.

I go into my room and shut the door before sitting down on the bed. My shoes and uniform peel off of me like a sticker that has been sitting in the hot sun. I grit my teeth as the grey spandex inches off my arms, replacing it with a white tank top and khaki shorts, before going back out into the hallway. Just as I shut the door I hear the front door open.

I freeze.

I can not hear all of it from where I am, but I know he is angry. He comes in with smoke flying out of his ears, already halfway to flipping out again. My mother tries to calm him down, but it does not seem to be working. All of a sudden I hear something shatter on the floor followed by a scream. Large footsteps stomp down the hallway, each one driving a hammer into my chest. I rush inside my room, trying to get away from him, but almost as soon as I close the door it opens again.

"What did you do?" he yells, letting the door slam into the dresser, causing everything to tumble off of it and shatter onto the floor.

"What do you—?"

"You know exactly what I mean. You're on lockdown until tomorrow," he yells, slamming the door shut, so hard that it makes the floor shake.

Shards of glass and shells are all over the ground. I pick up a broken picture . frame, the picture inside crinkled and almost fully revealed from under the . broken glass. The frame itself is chipped at the corners and roughed up a bit. I . look at the picture inside, a photo of me and my mother making a sand castle . on the beach. We both look happy, something I haven't seen in a while. I place it back in its place on my dresser once again, making sure that it doesn't wobble on its newly found short end.

I lay down in my bed starring at the smooth plane white ceiling for hours, letting its simplicity bore me to sleep. By the time I wake up, it is late, but not dark yet. I go over to the door to jimmy the lock like usual, but something seems to be jamming it. I hear a small whimper from the other side that seems to quietly die out, but I know it was there. My father must have gone to sleep, leaving my beaten up mother to drown in her tears.

I pace back and forth around the room, trying to think of a way to open the door, when the sweet ocean breeze hits my face from the slightly cracked open window. Before I can fully think it through I grab a blue cotton sweatshirt from the chair at my desk and climb out the window, towards the unknown.


	2. Chapter 2

The best feeling in the world is the sand between your toes. That is what my mother taught me. We used to walk down to the beach every day and just do whatever. Here was the land of no rules, the world of play pretend. I can never bring myself to remember why it stopped, why everything bad started, it just did.

The cool ocean breeze blows through my hair and for the first time in a while I breathe easily, like this is where I really belong, the ocean. It's strange that in a district where everything revolves around the ocean it took me so long to realize it.

I step closer and closer to the ocean until I am but inches away, my feet imbedded in the dark wet sand. When a wave finally rushes over my feet I watch them turn blurry as they are hit with the rush of warm liquid. I close my eyes and let my skin take in the rays peeping out in the beautiful sunset shown in the sky. For a minute I pause and listen to the soothing bursts of sound that come with each wave that crashes on shore, but then continue to walk along the beach as rocks and seaweed poke at my feet and tangle with my toes. With every crash comes the retraction of the water to show any rocks and washed up things before once again covering it with another rush of water.

I am staring openly around the beach when suddenly I see her.

I know it is her.

* * *

I walk towards her and pause before placing myself in the sand two feet away.

"Do you come here a lot?" I ask, as I settle my eye back on the endless horizon.

She slowly turns her head towards me, her hair flowing like ripples across her shoulder. Her sea green eyes sparkle almost like reflections of the ocean. She pauses, making sure to search me thoroughly from head to toe with her observant gaze. She silently turns back towards the sunset and waits yet another minute to give her response.

"I guess," she says, closing her eyes and letting in the last bit of sun before it disappears behind the water. Her eyes quickly dart back to me. "Why do you want to know?"

"No reason. Just wondering," I say, taking a deep breath and trying to settle my stomach that has been spinning in circles since sitting down. "I haven't been here in a while, that's all."

She places her arms behind her body, standing them up against the sand, and stretches her legs out straight in front of her. She takes a deep breath herself and almost seems to smile slightly.

"Funny, it seems like I'm only ever here," she says, not moving here eyes from the place they look. She stays like that for a minute before letting herself smile. It is not big, but the energy she gives off is unexplainable. Something about her just make me want more, to learn more about her.

"Oh, I wish. It's kind of hard to escape the house these days. I feel like I'm trapped half the time. I can see why you come here after everything that happened," I say, but quickly regret it. _Why am I saying all of this, all my family secrets to some stranger?_ Somehow I just couldn't help it.

She quickly sits back up and turns to me, her eyes open wide. "How did you know? Y-you can't tell anybody?" she says, seeming to be in some kind of panic.

"About what? About your mother? Listen, if she needs help you need to tell—" She puts her hand over my mouth and pushes me to the ground, climbing on top on me to keep her hold. The soft ends of her flowing long dark brown hair drape down onto my face.

"You can't tell anybody. You understand?" she asks, and I can tell she is scared. She reminds me of a stray kitten that I found in a beaten up cardboard box last year towards the Main Square. It was a small kitten with thin black fur and hazel green eyes. It was so light I could barely feel it when it sat in the palm of my hand. Someone had just left it there to die. I brought it home and took care of it for a while, but one day after coming home it was gone.

I lay there and look into her wide sea green eyes, trying to imagine what could be so bad that she did not want anyone finding out about her mother. This was not her just being embarrassed, but genuinely afraid.

I nod my head as best I can with her hand placed so tight against my face.

"Good," she says, taking her hand off my mouth and rolling back onto the sand. She settles back onto her arms, but the scared look does not come off of her face.

"Why do you care anyways?" I ask. "Just wondering. You don't have to answer that."

There is a good five minutes of us just sitting there as the water pulls in and out from our toes, in complete silence, but she does answer me.

"Because they'll take me away," she says, barely getting her sentence out before she gets too choked up. Tears start to drip down her face and leave wet spots in the already damp sand. Her breaths get deeper and deeper as she tries to steady herself, but every once in a while she sniffles and I hear a sob escape her lips.

I look at her, the scared little kitten, and remember what it's like to feel lost and frightened.

"If they find out that my mother isn't taking care of me they'll take me away." She sniffles. "And she's the only family I have left." Her sobs get more and more difficult to hide as the tears turn from drips to steady rain. I scooch in a little closer to her and put my arm around her shoulder. Her head leans on it and I feel the beat of her whimpering heart.

We stay just like that for a while. I don't know how long exactly, but by the time she wipes her eyes and sits up there are already and uncountable number of stars in the sky.

"Are you okay?" I ask, stretching out my arm that seems to have fallen asleep.

"Do you wanna go for a swim?" she asks, suddenly.

"Um, I guess—"

"Great! Come on!" she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up off the ground, running straight into the water as fast as she can. Her cheeks are still red from crying, but her eyes are as beautiful as ever. The way they light up when she gets in the water is like magic. Her hair blows in the night breeze as she runs through the salty waters, splashing like crazy along the way. After we get in waist deep she begins to slow down and let's go of my hand. Everything looks dark and I can barely see her just standing there, looking up at the stars.

"Don't you just love the water at this time of night," she says, trying to do a twirl, but falling in. She stays under for a minute and I rush towards her, worried, but she comes up.

"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned.

She holds up her hand and I take it, but instead of me helping her up she pulls me under. After she lets go I come up, gasping for air. She giggles. Her laugh is so infectious that soon I begin to follow and hers gets even louder. Soon we are laughing so hard that it almost seems impossible for either one of us to stop.

Her hair is covering her face covering her face, but she quickly clears it away with her hands before wiping her eyes. Her large tan sweater now appears a muddy brown, releasing water like a towel your trying to wring out after a shower. The beat-up leather chain on her neck now looks smooth rather than old and cracked, like it was before.

She rings her limp arms around my neck as she tries to regain support of her flimsy body, overcome with laughter. Her eyes soon find mine and our lips slowly meet each others. We stay like that for a moment, kissing, her in my arms. She tastes sweet, like nothing I have ever experienced before. Eventually she pulls away and I look into her big sea green eyes.

"I-I should probably get back to my mother, make sure she doesn't drink all the liquor," she says, though her eyes still do not leave mine.

"Yeah, my father will be pissed if he finds I'm gone," I agree.

She smiles at me. "Race you!" she says, splashing me in the face. We both swim as fast as she can to the shore, jokingly trying to sabotage the other as we go. She makes it there first, but only by a second at most. The smile on her face lights up the whole sky, as far as I can see.

"Good luck tomorrow," she says, looking down at the sand, dreading what is to come next sunrise.

"You too."


	3. Chapter 3

I feel like I have barely slept at all by the time my mother peeks from behind my bedroom door.

_knock, knock, knock_

"Good morning, Finnick. Did you have a good night sleep?" she asks, walking over to shut my window that I must have forgotten to close last night.

"Not really," I say, honestly.

"Well, that's okay. You can rest some more when we get back," she says, tidying up a few things around the room. "Oh, and your father went into town for some important business. He'll meet us there at the reaping." I take a deep breath. "But that doesn't give you an excuse to stay in bed all day. Come on!" she adds, tapping the end of the bed and walking out of the room.

I sigh as I pull myself out of bed and grab my clothes. I slip the smooth white button-up dress shirt into a pair of black slacks and hold it all in place with a black leather belt. Although there are still purple and red marks on my skin from the bruises they do not hurt anymore. Apparently Kai's mother was not lying when she said sea water healed. The socks feel odd underneath my tan dress shoes, considering I probably have not worn socks since last years reaping.

I head out of my room to the kitchen and I see my mother sitting down, eating breakfast. Her blonde hair is held in a ponytale of almost endless waves and curls that lay on her low backed white flowy dress. The top is fitted perfectly until the hips where it ends in a mid calf tea-length skirt. The sleeves are large and slit through, meeting at a thick band at the wrist. Her polished blue toes peep out of her white satin high heels and her eyes pop in contrast to her flawless skin and ruby-red lips.

I walk towards the table and sit down across from her at the large smooth black table. Our cook, Hestia, places a plate of egg whites mixed with pomegranate seeds and mandarin oranges over a bead of seaweed before silently bobbing back into the kitchen. I pick up my largest fork and puncture a mouthful of food before putting it in my mouth and letting its sweet taste calm my anxious nerves.

"So, honey, how was the beach last nigh?" she asks, nonchalantly.

I freeze. "H-how did you—?"

"I know a lot more than you think," she says, continuing to eat her parmesan covered banana and chicken salad like we were only discussing the weather. "I remember when I was your age I did the same thing." She looks up from her meal and stares into the nothingness of the air. "Went out to the ocean, tried to escape into the water, away from this g-d forsaken place we call home. I needed to feel like for once I wasn't trapped. Like for once I controlled my own life." She breaks away from her daze and turns to me. "I know things aren't always good around here, but I promise that I will always be here for you." She smiles and brushes her cold fragile hand against my cheek.

"Thanks," I say, struggling to show a smile. I am still fairly nervous about this morning.

Just then the clock hits twelve and a bell goes off throughout the country. I look at the door, fear in my eyes for a second, and give my mother a hug.

"I'll see you there in a few minutes, Finnick. I've just got to finish up a few things here," she says, kissing my forehead before I head out the door.

* * *

As soon as I am outside, I can see the mob of kids running towards the Main Square with smiles plastered on all of their faces. Everyone is laughing and cheering, too excited to keep the joy of the reaping within their mouths. I stumble along the pavement slowly as a group of giggling girls passes me.

"Hi, Finnick," one of them says, touching my arm and smiling as she passes. Her long blonde hair bounces as she walks.

"Good luck!" another says, as she holds the first's arm and continues to pull her forward. Her golden brown eyes look almost blinding as the bright sun reflects in them. The third one waves at me and raises her right hand to her bright pink lips to blow me a kiss before rushing to keep up with the others. More and more people rush past me, but I stay at the same steady pace I started with. Soon someone gets grip of my shoulders and jumps on me with excitement.

"Hey!" he yells, in my ear, trying to be heard above all the commotion. He comes to my side and I finally see that it is Kai, not that anyone else would jump on me like that.

"Hey," I say, a little bit loud, but her can still barley hear me. "Are you nervous?"

"A little. How about you?" he asks.

I nod my head. "A lot."

"Hey, I'm sure whatever happens will be for the best. Besides, we're only 14. Your name's only in there twice."

"I guess, your right," I say, taking a deep breath for the first time today.

Soon we are at the Main Square and people are filling it faster than a cup of water. It's almost like an endless sea of people that just keeps flowing and flowing and flowing onto shore, swallowing up the sand bite by bite. Everyone is dressed up in their best clothing, everything ranging from feathered dresses to silk shirts. There are only a few who do not wear fine clothes, their dressings sticking out like a fly in a full glass of milk.

Kai and I slowly weave through the crowd and make it into line at the check in tables. I flinch as the white dressed woman zaps my finger. A few drops of blood drip onto the floor, but I just keep on moving towards the roped off area. I am almost there when someone grabs my arm and pulls me out of line.

"Hey, stranger," Coral jokes, as she smiles at me, her perfectly straight pearly white teeth staring at me head on.

Her straight blonde hair is left down, perfectly framing her face. Her cool blue eyes, lined with winged black ink, pop against her lightly tanned skin like a moat some kid dug in the wet sand. She wears a low cut body hugging white dress ending at a crisp seem about four inches above the knee. The cap-sleeves are carefully slit at the shoulders to reveal a small crescent of skin from under the stretchy material. An average-sized red flower lays mid-bloom against her left ear, its vibrant color matching the shiny gloss that cover her lips. Nude colored round toed high heeled shoes help her stand at about my height as she opens her mouth to speak.

"So, my parents are throwing a party tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come," she smiles.

"Oh, yeah, sure. That'll be nice, you know, if I'm not picked," I say.

"Oh, come on. Are you seriously still on that? If I knew it was going to make you question your entire life, or something like that, I never would have told you. Just let it go," she insists, shaking my shoulders with her delicate, yet surprisingly strong, hands. "You're 14. I'm sure you won't actually get picked. It was just an idea, a stupid idea."

"It wasn't a stupid idea. It could happen. Whether it's this year, or the next, or the one after that, I'm always gonna have a target on my back. I need to accept that," I say.

Her eyes tear up and her red lips settle into a sympathetic pout. She places her small delicate hands on my neck and pulls me closer, until out noses are almost touching.

"You don't need to think about that," she shakes her head. A single tear drips down her face. "Okay? Tonight at my house. I'll see you there. Trust me." She presses her soft lips to my cheek. letting one of her tears drip onto my face. She gently wipes it away with her thumb and walks away.

I continue my way to my age division on the guys side and arrive just in time. The entire square goes silent. The reaping is about to begin. I do not even realize that I am holding my breath until Kai taps me on the shoulder to remind me to breath.

The entire stage in front of us starts to glow and the anthem begins to play. The large silver doors open, letting all the district officials out of the Hall of Justice. My father walks out first. His short brown hair is freshly cut, the top full and jelled and the sides gradually trimmed until equal with his skin. His chin is newly shaved, leaving not stubble showing at all. He wears a navy blue suit that has an expensive satin fabric upholstered on the collar. Under it lays a crisp white button up shirt and a light green bow tie to match his almost hidden pocket square. The dim shine of the focus lights appear on his face as he walks across the stage, my mother and her white high heels slowly following behind him.

The next one out is Mags. She is as old as the games herself. She won the 9th Hunger Games and has been the model victor of the district ever since. She seems like a nice old lady, looking around her 70s. She walks across the stage with her long wavy grey hair partially pinned up in little twists, the rest of it hanging only a few inches below hers shoulders. A sweet smile sweeps across her face as the crowd before her cheers. She wears a simple, yet appropriate, deep purple structured blazer with ruffles towards the bottom and matching pants. She walks with a slight slouch in her back, but it is barely noticeable.

Behind her come a line of past victors, all of them acting like they are a bigger deal than they actually are. Any one of them could easily be mistaken for a Capitol citizen today, yet tomorrow they will be back in their tee shirts and shorts. All of them regret being in the games, whether they admit it or not. They all act like strong and powerful people for the camera, but afterwards if you watch close enough you will see them slowly creep back into their extravagant but empty houses and wait for the next event. I do not really remember any of their names, they all look too similar.

Panelia, I can recognize trailing behind them all, barley able to walk on her seven inch platform high heels. She has been the district's escort for the last three years. Her extremely curly evergreen wig lays in such tight spirals that not a single hair graces her neck. On top of her sprouting twists sits a small little black top hat with matching lace falling down over her pink tinted forehead. She only wears a hint of makeup, something very rare, yet her eyelashes have on them tiny little colored feathers that make a rainbow each time she blinks. Her rosy skin is covered by a baby blue floral jumpsuit everywhere except for her arms. Its wide legs beat against each other as they drag against the floor, even with the added seven inches. Her bony hands are covered in black lace gloves as they lay lightly propped on her hips.

Once everyone has sat down and the anthem ends my father makes his way over to the podium and begins the same speech that he gives every year.

"It was many centuries ago when the world as people knew it ended and the world we know today began. Water consumed the continent North America and from it a new nation rose from the ashes, Panem. One large Capitol city surrounded by thirteen districts that all lived in peace and prosperity. Until the dark days.

"War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, and motherless child's. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, solely won. The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost, when the traitors were defeated we swore as a nation that we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of generosity and forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future." He takes a long deep breathe and turns to Panelia. "Now to carry out this extraordinary honor is our wonderful District 4 escort, Panelia Celles, all the way from the Capitol!"

The crowd joins in applause as she rises from her seat and makes her way over to the podium. She rubs her lace covered fingers together before testing the microphone and clearing her throat. "Hello! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds ever be in your favor," she smiles. "Now the time has come to select one courageous man and woman for the honor of representing District 2 in the 74th annual Hunger Games. As usual, ladies first."

She purses her lips tightly with anticipation as her fingers drop into the bowl. They hang in the air, suspended above the cards like a spider crawling to its trapped pray. An entire district full of names are trapped inside its web, one "_lucky"_ name about to be picked. She plucks one of the perfectly folded cards from the pile and peels the Capitol seal sticker off of its white crisp paper. Her eyes see the formal ink and subtly light up with excitement, probably looking forward for the games to come.

"Rinoa Musset."

The crowd turns to a loud applause, once again. There is a scream of excitement from the girls side and everyone steps a few feet away from what I assume is Rinoa. She is all legs and honey blonde hair that's catching all of the sun like a butterfly net. Peacekeepers surround her as she makes her way to the stage. She wears a flattering off-white lace dress that reflects the wet heat of the humid summer day off of its cool fabric. The neck is low and the it fans out ever so slightly after her knees before ending at her ankles. Although it's simple, she has every eye in the square. Her curled hair bounces as she goes up the stairs, holding her skirt up slightly so that she can walk.

Panelia reaches for Rinoa's hand and leads her over to a spot beside the table.

"Okay! Now it is time to pick our boy tribute," she announces, once again standing in front of the podium.

Her hand reaches into the glass bowl and pinches a single card between her lacy fingers before scurrying back to the podium. She slowly peals off the seal. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, praying that it's not me. As I release my breath, the name on the card becomes audible to everyone in the crowd as it spills from her thin lips. I blanch when I hear it.

"Finnick Odair."

* * *

**A/N: As I write, I usually write one scene at a time and sometimes post a scene before the entire chapter is done so if you feel that your missing something in the story just check. It should be there.** **I usually try to post at least one scene at a time because that way I can keep all of my fan fictions on track as well. Feel free to check them out. Thanks for understanding. You're all the best. Please review! -amazinglilli :)**


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